It was by Impulse
by readingisawayoflife
Summary: "But none of it mattered. He didn't kiss him knowingly; it was just an impulse. An impulse to reciprocate a kiss, because you get kissed by people who you expect to get kissed by. People you love, or at least like. Not random strangers who throw themselves at you." Highschool AU. A drunk Stiles kisses Derek as a dare, and can't get it out of his mind. Derek and Stiles POV
1. Chapter 1

"Fuck this shit. I'm sorry Derek I gotta go," Dylan cursed switching his phone off, and gathering the notes scattered across the table with a quick sweep of his arm, stuffing them in an un-orderly mess into his rucksack. Derek's eyes flicked up as he watched; a smirk lifting the corners of his lips in amusement.

"What happened?"

"My stupid sister has once again drunk far too much to drive home, and her fuck-ass boyfriend doesn't want to leave yet, so she's asking for a lift. Again. I cant deal with this shit man- she's fucking lucky I aint just gonna leave her there to drink herself to death,", he rambled on, zipping up his backpack and flinging it over his shoulder. He rolled his eyes so far back Derek was sure they disappeared behind his eyelids, and tuts left his lips one after the other in angry bursts.

Dylan was a good friend, maybe with a short temper, however he had always been reliable. Whenever the boys temper flared, suddenly his proper accent seemed to abandon him, with curses streaming out his mouth like there was no tomorrow. He wore glasses too big for his face, claiming they made him look "hipster" and that they were what the ladies went for, whereas Derek thought they just looked humorous. He wouldn't know what ladies looked for, neither cared. Not that Dylan knew that.

"Hey you wanna come and pick her up with me?" Dylan asked, not really expecting Derek to agree. So when Derek nodded, and began shifting his notes into an organised stack, he was surprised.

"Seriously? Your coming to a party? Who are you and what have you done to Derek?" he laughed, shaking his head but smiling- his mood seeming to have lifted suddenly. That was another thing about Dylan's temper. It disappeared as quickly as it came.

"We're not going to a party. We're going to pick up your sister from a party."

"Yeah yeah don't kill it- lets go. I don't need to be reminded what a lame ass life I have," he said, making his way out of Derek's room, and running down the stairs too quickly for it to be safe. Derek followed slowly behind, shutting lights as he went, thinking more practically and pretending he gave a rats-ass about global warming.

"Derek... please can we take your dad's car?" he asked in a pleading tone, already knowing what the answer was going to be.

"No."

"Derek please."

"No."

"Fine. Can we take your car?"

"No."

"You're such a..." he didn't finish the sentence, probably realising that if he ever wanted to drive the car, he was going to have to be super charming about it. It was a bloody beautiful car.

Derek slid into the passenger seat, while Dylan turned the engine on and drove out of the Hale's property. It took a good 3 to 4 minutes until he was fully out the driveway, and then the road stretched out ahead of them leading them to the less expensive side of Harewood.

Mia's new friends were...well...new. They were loud. They liked drinking. And they felt the need to party every night until the music impaled their hearing, and they passed out against a toilet seat. It was easy to deduce how unimpressed Dylan was by the whole situation. His knuckles had gone white with how hard he was clutching the steering wheel, and the tips of his ears burned red as they edged closer.

Maybe it was more due to the fact that he hadn't had a chance to live the party lifestyle let; his life being as uninteresting as Derek's was.

The car lucky slotted in right in front of the house, and Dylan quickly killed the engine and made his way inside. While driving up it had been easy to tell which number it was, because of the vast amount of people stood in front and were still flooding in. It wasn't exactly easily miss able.

Derek lost Dylan pretty quickly, him having disapeared into the crowd as soon as he set foot inside. The smell of alcohol was intoxicating and invaded all his senses, while the vibrations from the music were making the ground shake. Meanwhile all he could see were people. It may have even been the most amount of people he had ever seen in such a limited space. Someone grabbed his arm, while another person thrust a drink in his direction, and he growled backing away, knocking into someone else behind him.

"Fuck! Watch were your going asshole." the guy burst out, narrowing his eyes while staring at his dripping top.

He might have said sorry if he hadn't been so busy in finding a less crowed area. Spotting one near a wall he made his way over, trying not to push people out the way as he went. There was a mixed group close by to his new standing location, who were all laughing and practically lying on top of each other wrapped up in their own bubble. He stared, probably not the best decision he could have made, because one of the girls caught his eye, and then suddenly they were all staring and giggling amongst themselves. He learned his lesson though, and kept his eyes trained in front, making sure he wasn't going to catch anybodies eyes.

He had no idea how old these people were either. Some girls looked like they could be around 12, caking themselves in what looked like a whole crayola pack, while others looked they should be in Uni by now.

He was completely out of his comfort zone.

Diner parties Derek could handle. Getting dressed in a suit while having to make polite conversation with people who he had been told were very important was a skill he was good at. Not that it was particularly enjoyable, but the formal and sophisticated atmosphere was one in which he had grown up in.

He was also comfortable in a gym. Very comfortable in fact. There was a certain calming effect in forgetting stress and being caught up in the moment. Forgetting who you are in fact.

Plus, he could pretend that he still enjoyed the attention he got from girls.

Thinking about receiving girl attention, he was almost defiantly sure that the girl he had made eye contact with him was still staring, however he really did not want to check. What he wanted to do was spot Dylan and Mia, and go back home.

His ears were starting to beep.

The snarl embedded into his lips was starting to make the muscles ache.

And his clenched fists were creating moon-shaped imprints in his palm.

Until he felt none of those feelings at all. Because suddenly a pair of lips were smashed against his, probably lasting only a second, but still managed to block out the rest of the word from sheer surprise.

But Derek's lips were opening and by sheer impulse he was kissing the girl back, his fists unclenching and resting against her hips. He had no idea why he did it; maybe to prove that he could be that guy who kissed random girls just because he could. She tasted of beer, so most defiantly was at least tipsy; maybe the girl who had made eye-contact with. And she was kissing him back, quite enthusiastically might he add- both her hands cradling his face.

They didn't feel like girls hands. They felt harder, rougher. And their lips felt more like guy's lips; It's not like he saw their face before they attacked him. He yanked himself away, shoving the person off in the process, and squeezed his eyes shut. He really didn't want to confirm his suspicions, but 2 seconds later he opened them and was staring into a pair of amber eyes.

They belonged to a guy.

"I'm Stiles," he said, with a slight slur to his voice, smiling goofily up at Derek. The boy was defiantly younger than him, probably even more than a year, who looked lanky and as if he just had a growth spurt. He hadn't really grown into his new height though, and had an air of naivety and young-ness to him.

The room was dark, but he could still pick out features, and a few moles were dotted over his face, probably other areas of skin too, like constellations.

His skin looked pale, maybe because of the lighting or maybe because he was just pale, and he almost suited the too short hair. Long enough to just about ruffle maybe.

His eyes though were the most striking. Orbs of amber, surrounded by a darker brown, holding all the colour in. Looking up at Derek they seemed like they were radiating brightness, and he could imagine getting lost in them easily.

But none of it mattered. He didn't kiss him knowingly; it was just an impulse. An impulse to reciprocate a kiss, because you get kissed by people who you expect to get kissed by. People you love, or at least like. Not random strangers who throw themselves at you.


	2. Chapter 2

"What do you think your doing?" Derek angrily hissed, pushing him further away to gain more distance. He was still far too close.

It was then that Derek realised that the boy was from the group of people sitting on the floor, and now they were all crowed round laughing their heads off. He had never felt so humiliated in his life.

"I was dared," he mumbled, shuffling towards Derek, trying to get closer. He was literally like a little puppy, lips pouted out, leaning in to get more attention. Derek snarled, his cheeks going pink as he was surrounded by this group who this whole situation was the funniest thing they had ever seen.

"You liked it though," he heard the boy whisper, and his temper flared because he was not allowed to assume that. He was not allowed to assume right.

"You attacked me," Derek snarled, glaring at the boy in front of him.

"No I touched my lips against yours. Barely even a kiss. You..you..you..kissed me," he stuttered, jabbing his finger between the two of them, pointing at first Derek then himself.

"He's right man, you totally French kissed him back," one boy said between laughs, which looked more like a seizure with how he was almost collapsing onto another laugher figure, and Derek made sure he showed teeth in his snarl. But he was feeling more and more embarrassed, and for the first time he was considering in just backing out of the situation and running the hell away.

"Stay the fuck away from me," he growled before stalking off to make his way outside, really needing fresh air, but the boy caught his arm and held tight, making it almost impossible for him to yank himself away.

"Where are you going?" but Derek managed to push him off, and fresh air filled his lungs the second he stepped out; a thing he didn't realise was possible to miss. It felt chilly after being in a room that was heated up from everyone's body heat, and goose bumps popped up simultaneously along his arms and the back of his neck. He should of grabbed a jumper of some sort before he had left, however he really didn't expect to be thrust into this situation. Hell, where even was Dylan anyway?

After 2 minutes a guy offered him a cigarette, which he refused with a crinkled nose and snotty expression, and carried on waiting for his friend by the car. It took 12 minutes. 12 long minutes.

He was half carrying half dragging his sister, an expression of repulsion plastered over his features, which Derek noticed as they got closer. He heard Mia's sobs however from meters away. She sobbed in the car; the full length of the 30 minute drive. She sobbed as Derek got out; wishing Dylan a goodnight and telling her a guy that cheats is a bastard and isn't worth her time anyway. He could hear the sobs ringing in his ear, along with the booming beat of the music inside his head as he tried to close his eyes and drift to sleep. It was no use. Every time he got close to drifting off, a pair of amber eyes would cause his heart to pick up and his palms to sweat.

* * *

Stiles was not a morning person. He woke up in stages; first with the flutter of eyes, then with the 5 more minutes routine which always turned into a 20 minute nap, then a jolt out of bed realising that he should probably be getting ready for school. That was the beautiful thing about weekends; he didn't have to do step 3.

He lazily stretched out, wriggling his toes and arching his back, whilst rubbing out the sleep dust from his eyes. He was lying in his bed, the room chilly as he must of forgotten to close the window once climbing back in, and trying to re-call the memories from last night. Something crucial had happened, something dramatic...but he couldn't quite place it. Whatever it was, it was bugging at his mind, like an irritating bug buzzing around demanding to get noticed. Actually no, that was a very bad comparison. But it was like something.

Stiles reached out to his nightstand and felt blindly around the table-top in order to find his phone, but just his luck that it would get knocked over on to the floor, and he was actually going to have to move to find it and pick it up. The universe was out to get him; he knew for sure.

He peaked out of his right eye to look at the screen, but the lights were too bright and he let out a small yelp squeezing them back shut again. That was the moment he felt a headache pounding against his temples, and the sensitivity to noise he had developed; one of the many perks of what happens once you reach the end of a bottle.

A groan escaped his lips as he let the sun filter into his eyes, and he dialled a number into his phone then pressed it against his ear and pillow.

"Stiles, this better be good otherwise-"

"Scott! Scott! Do you remember what happened last night?" Stiles interrupted quickly, his voice loud enough to earn a groan off Scott.

"Dude don't speak so loudly. I can hear pounding in my head, and I don't think its normal," he whined, which Stiles could relate too, however he really really wanted to know why he had woken up feeling in a better mood than he usually was.

"Scott, you need to tell me everything that happened last night," said Stiles, trying to keep his voice down and sound firm so that Scott would just give him what he wanted.

"Why are you asking me?"

"Cause I'm too pissed to remember! Scott-"

"I could be too pissed too. It's not like I don't drink. Why didn't you ring Jackson- he didn't drink cause of the game," Scott complained, causing Stiles to grit his teeth in frustration. He didn't ring Jackson because he didn't know Jackson, and he merely put up with his company because Scott had decided he was going to tag along to every event that they had. And so yeah okay he didn't mind at first, because Lydia was literally the most beautiful person he had ever seen. But as soon as he realised he didn't even stand a chance in holding her attention for a conversation, he realised he stood no chance in hell in her ever being interested in him. And instead of Scott being the best friend he should of been, he had been trailing after Allison as if the sun shone out of her ass. He still did.

"Cause I know that you don't wanna get drunk in case you do something stupid in front of Allison. Come on Scott..." the happy mood was quickly fading, and seriously- when did Scott start becoming such a crappy friend.

"Fine. Um... you drank. A lot. Think its cause Lydia was being a bitch. Oh wait she says she wasn't being a bitch. Shut up I'm talking to Stiles-"

"Wait what?" Stiles interrupted, suddenly very confused.

"Oh we all crashed at Jackson's place cause his parents weren't there, and Lydia is butting in" Scott explained, causing the frown to deepen into Stile's expression. He really had lost him.

"Oh."

"Dude you were invited; just you kept talking about how you were gonna wank over the wolf dude, and Jackson really didn't wanna find traces of that on his sofa. Plus that's something you do in private so we thought we'd leave you too it."

"WHAT?"

"Oh wait that's probably what you wanted to remember. Yeah you kissed a dude- a dude man when did you start getting in to that? Yeah haha I remember it. This girl kissed Jackson which pissed Lydia off, so she told him she was gonna kiss this boy to make it even. Yeah and she did, which made this girl start crying once she found out, but I think that was a lot later. And yeah before that you said she should kiss you, to Lydia that is, which she laughed and said something- oh wait Lydia says not to repeat it- but back to the story, then you got pissed. Like really pissed."

"Wait wait wait. Go back to the me kissing part," Stiles said, remembering vaguely the memory of having someone's tongue down his throat, and a pair of rough but nicely gentle hands resting against his hip.

"Yeah you got dared, so you kissed the wolf guy, and he kissed you back. Oh but he got really angry afterwards. Haha It was hysterical even Jackson's laughing again now."

Every time Scott kept mentioning how he was with Lydia and Jackson and probably Allison, his heart kinda hurt a little. But instead Stiles was going to focus on this "wolf boy", because it would give him a distraction and maybe someone to make out with.

"Do you remember who he was? What he looked like"

"No. Jackson might. Oi Jackson, do you remember who it was?" Stile heard Scott asking, and he tried not to think about it.

"No he doesn't." Scott replied 5 seconds after, which was disappointing cause Stiles _had_ to find out who he was.

"Oh okay."

"Dude if it means something to you then we can all meet up and work out who it was? Lydia is nodding so I'm sure she's up to it."

Obviously he couldn't spend time on his own with Stiles anymore.

"Alright where?"

"The posh park," he heard Lydia shouting on the phone, which was ridiculous cause they didn't stand a chance in seeing him there. No-one from the rich part of town would ever go to one of Jack Rodger's house parties, cause they were all snobs who thought too highly of themselves.

But Lydia was obsessed with the Lilies that grew there, and she claimed that the daisies had fatter stalks to make better daisy chains, which was stupid as well. But because Lydia wanted to go the posh park, which was actually called Charleston Hill but they sounded like twats calling it that, it was official.

"Cool! We'll pick you up in half an hour," said Scott, then cut the line. Looks like another day was going to be spent pretending to like these people, and put up with Scott's crap.


	3. Chapter 3

They came on time at least, in Jackson's fancy silver car with the music blaring out. Stiles sighed, climbing in and immediately was wedged next to Allison, Erica and Scott in the back, and Lydia turned to him smiling sweetly and said hi.

What she said last night must have been really bad. Bad enough she felt guilt tripped into acknowledging his presence something that happened rarely.

"So what do you remember about his looks?" Scott asked, tearing his eyes away from Allison for a moment.

"Are you kidding me? You're seriously bringing it up again? It was a one time thing Stile's-get the fuck over it-the guy wasn't into you," Jackson said maliciously from the driver's seat, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. Stiles narrowed his eyes and give him is best bitch glare, although he knew he couldn't see him, and sunk down in his seat.

"I thought that was the reason we were going."

"Jackson shut up," Lydia spoke.

"Just cause you told him-"

"Jackson shut up!"

"Okay okay."

Stiles turned his body so he was facing out the window, deciding that he was going to ignore what they were saying as he didn't want to know anyway. He was going find his wolf, and tell him how sad he was inside, because he was losing his friend, and he wished he was around people who liked him. And he was going to tell him that Scott was too wrapped up in Allison to even notice him, and how that made him want to punch a wall, because he was always there for him. And the wolf guy wouldn't care, or wouldn't listen, but Stiles wanted to tell someone.

He scrambled out the car as soon as he could, wondering when they were going to leave so he could start his quest. He was going to find this guy, even if his supposed best friend wasn't going to help him.

"Sorry about Jackson- he's a bit grumpy. Its cause being in a house with a load of hung-over teenagers would put anyone in a bad mood you know?"

"No I don't."

"Oh come on Stiles lighten up. We're altogether it's going to be fun. Don't ruin it."

He could have strangled him. He really could have.

"Hey Jackson, what did lover boy look like?"

"Really Lydia?"

"Was he tanned with a really sexy stubble?"

"Um yeah he was tanned...?"

"And did he have a very angry-looking face?"

"After Stiles kissed him yeah. Wait how?"

"Well that guy looks like he's seen a ghost, and is also giving us the evils. You think that's him?" Lydia said pointing over Stile's shoulder to look at him.

Well 'look' was an understatement. Stiles stared, not giving a damn that he was caught looking, because that guy was really something. He was tanned for a starter; like really really tanned, even though his face had gone white as a sheet from shock. And he really did have the sexy stubble thing going on along his jaw line, oh god his jaw line. It was defined and angular, and he had cheek bones. Cheekbones! Had he seriously kissed that guy?

"Is that him?" Stiles whispered as though he could hear him, which was utterly ridiculous because he was all the way over on the other side of the park.

"Yeah looks like it by the way he looks terrified that you're going to go over," Allison chipped in, looking at him with a dreamy expression herself. Stiles would look to see his Scott was irritated by it, which he definitely was, but he couldn't tear his eyes away.

"You know what I gotta do right?" said Stiles, still keeping his voice down.

"Go talk to him?" Scott said.

"Go talk to him," Stile repeated, smiling with a goofy grin.

"Not a good idea. Its all about playing hard to get Stiles," Lydia said, shaking her head tutting while re-doing her lipstick; eyes still trained on his guy.

"No I think I should really go over there," Stiles replied, not really bothered about the whole playing hard to get thing. That worked for pretty girls who only needed to pout to get a guys attention, Stiles would know.

"Dude, he wasn't into you, drop it," Jackson was saying, but Stiles had already began walking over. It was only then that Stiles noticed that his wolf was in fact sitting next to another guy, definitely not on a date by the collection of textbooks scattered.

If only he had a ball or something that he could "accidentally" throw at them for an excuse to go over there. He felt like an idiot walking up, with his palms sweating and heart rate increasing, but he tried to smile friendly as he walked, some guy with glasses too big for his face staring him down.

What could he even say? Hi my name is Stiles, and I think we made out? Or, hey I'm Stiles, and I may or may not have accidentally attacked you with my lips, depending on whether Jackson is a bull-shiter or not? Maybe he could just bring up the party and hope there were both there? Yeah that seemed like a good idea.

"Er hey sorry to interrupt but me and my friends were trying to work out whether you guys were at the party last night or not? I voted for yes, and wanted to prove them all wrong," Stiles blabbered, losing most control over his mouth as wow, wolf guy looked totally even hotter closer up.

"Yeah just to pick up my sister," glasses guy said, "Some bitch kissed her boyfriend, and I had to pick her up," he sounded bitter, but that might have just been his accent.

"Oh that sucks. Do you know a name?" Stile replied, not caring in the least. All he cared about was hat Mr hot wolf was sitting 2 steps away from him, and he smelled nice. Like really nice.

"Lydia I think. I dunno, she was sobbing while she complained. I don't see how this is any of your business?" the guy was annoying, and had a really stupid posh accent that made him sound as though he was born into the royal family or something. Then again, his jeans probably cost more than Stile's house, so maybe he was?

Plus, he had totally bought the whole thing up in the first place, which was practically asking Stiles to make it his business.

"Lydia? Haha she's sitting right there? Small world huh?" Stiles laughed, although it was slightly forced, while pointing over towards her, and decided now was a good time to place himself in between the 2 boys, his legs crossed underneath him.

"Oh you guys are studying? On a weekend? Awesome- what is this- Chemistry?" Stiles rushed ignoring the irritated expression on glasses boy and the kinda scared kinda angry expression on his wolf. Why had he even started to call him his wolf boy?

And who even studied in a park on the weekend?

"Yes but-"

"Great- I'm really good at Chemistry," Stiles said, dragging a textbook closer to him.

"Do we know you?"

"Yes can you please leave," wolf boy said for the first time, and his voice was just the most perfect rough gruff thing ever. No way in hell was Stiles leaving now.

"Yeah. I'm Stiles. Met you at last nights party. Hey weren't you the one I...hugged?" Stiles added, turning his head towards where wolf boy was sitting, and gave him a coy smile. He growled slightly under his breath with a threatening glare fixed on his face , but a red colouring flushed his cheeks which made him less intimidating and more...cute. Defiantly cute.

"You assaulted me!"

"Assaulted? Dude you hugged me back."

"I think you've become delusional-I shoved you off."

"You know I might have been really really drunk, but seeing your face, its jogged my memory. And I am 100% sure that you defiantly hugged me back."

Stiles made a point by staring at his lips as he said it, a goofy grin playing on his lips. The guy however was getting more and more wound up- clutching his fists tightly and biting his tongue, probably leaving indents.

"Like I said- you were probably delusional. We gotta go" he snarled, gathering up his notes and stuffing them into a black bag with some fancy logo on it.

"Okay..." glasses boy replied, his eyebrows knotted in confusion as he followed his lead.

No no no no this was bad. Like really bad. He couldn't go now; he needed a number or something! He had to act quick. And then suddenly a spark of genius. Stiles was a genius. It was though a light bulb had suddenly turned on above his head-ping.

"Right well I'll see you guys soon then," Stiles said, getting up and brushing glass off him.

"Hope not," he heard, but he was already walking back to Scott and the others, his right hand dug deep into his pocket, clinging on tightly to now a crumpled piece of paper, a smile of victory worn proudly on his face.


End file.
